


All The White Horses

by Unoriginality



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unoriginality/pseuds/Unoriginality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaves in the cold winter mornings, and she follows, a steadfast companion and loyal wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The White Horses

The bare woods are still and cold this time of morning, those gray early hours as the sun is just beginning to creep up to the world's horizon, the Mystic Moon and its smaller companion low to the other side, large and bright and casting shadows that dance along the ground.

Celena has not gotten used to how cold it gets here in Fanelia, in the land surrounding the castle town that has become her home and her kingdom less than a year ago. She doesn't care for cold, but as much as she dislikes it, it is better than the heat of summer, when the sun is white hot with its intensity and burns her skin far too easily. The winter offers relief to that, cold and wet with snow that crunches under her feet as she makes the journey past the town's walls into the surrouding forest.

She gathers her cloak tighter around her shoulders, pulling her hood lower over her face to try to lessen the sting of the crisp air, picking her way carefully along the well-worn path that she has walked a number of times in the past months. She never leaves the castle with Van, when he slips away from their bed when the sky is still dark, waits and pretends to sleep through as he gets up and changes, occasionally muttering curses about the cold stone floor under his feet. She waits until he is gone before she rises and changes into her warm dress, pulling on the thick leather boots that were made for her by Ruhm as a wedding gift when she returned with Van to her new home.

Celena leaves when the moons are beginning to set, and the sky starts to fade to gray, follows his footsteps silently out to the grave where his brother and father are both buried.

Van never looks up at her when she first steps to the edge of the clearing, waiting patiently for him to be ready to look away from the grave, to turn from whatever conversation he is having with the brother he spent too many years estranged from, to pull himself from the thoughts he gets lost in whenever he disappears into the quiet woods. He doesn't do it every day; more often than not, she wakes up held safely in his arms, his warmth pressed against her back, his breath steady against the skin of her neck.

These mornings, however, it is her turn to be there for him.

The world is solemn and quiet for the young king- even the birds are quiet. Celena waits, watches and lets her heart ache for him as he stares at the gravestone, crouched down on one knee, unmindful of the cold, wet snow on the ground under him.

Neither speak when Van finally rises to his feet, the sky slowly becoming a pale shade of pink by that time, but he smiles when he looks over at her, his eyes distant but growing warmer as he walks to where she is waiting for him. His hands reach up to cup her face gently when he steps up to her, and she smiles, lifting her hand to brush away the hair that perpetually hangs over his eyes. He kisses her forehead softly at that, arms wrapping around her to hold her tightly.

They linger only a moment before they pull away, Celena slipping her hand into his and walking with him back to the castle in the same silence they both arrived there in, leaving the bare woods behind them.


End file.
